Aysal
An exhausting fatigue weighed heavily upon me. My fingertips were frozen. The incessant drip-drip sound continued without pause. The man rose from my side and returned to his shelter, tucked into a corner about a meter inside the tunnel. I was left alone with the voices in my head. I was cold, thirsty, and once again, hungry. How much longer... could I possibly stay here? According to the footsteps from above, people were still rushing from place to place. But this time, the steps were fast, as if they were tearing the ground apart.
Vague images flickered before my eyes. I didn't know what to categorize as real or fake. Would they send someone to make me reconsider the offer? Would he do that? If he did, it would be solely out of his hatred for me and his sense of superiority.
The weak light illuminating the tunnel pierced my eyes. For a moment, I felt my perception of time and space blur. I heard sounds resembling screams—noises that came from nowhere but were relentless. Wasn't that how it always was? At first, I didn't construct a scenario for it. It would come. It would pass. It would happen. My heart was turning to stone. Feeling the dryness in my throat, I touched my neck with my index finger.
The last few remaining hours?
If I didn't fulfill my duty, how many seconds would my remaining time be squeezed into? I only now believed how the demon inside a human could truly emerge.
"You're making a mistake," the man said, shifting into a reclining position. The toe of his leather shoe was torn. "You need to go up. You can't stay here until the end."
It was easy to tell from his cautionary but weary tone that he had lost his faith in life. Did my life still hold a shred of value in my eyes? Or was I forced to win simply because I had put it up as a stake?
"You know more than you're letting on," I said with a tone of certainty. Meanwhile, the noises continued. What distinguished them from music was their unique arrangement. The sound vibrated in my ears like the string of a guitar. I felt the Mechanism come alive, attacking those inside with its two arms and two legs. As my thoughts spilled out like acid burning through skin, I added, "But you're hiding it. For yourself, of course... Because not every truth is meant for everyone. If it were told, it would undoubtedly end in death."
"If you thought I knew something, you would have suspected me first. Ah, I fear they won't give us any peace!" Looking up, I stared at the pile of dust and ash suspended in the air right next to his hand.
"What is happening? Even if you won't tell me that... at least tell me this: has something like this happened before?"
"What kind of thing?"
"These sounds," I stammered. The more I hurried, the more the words leaving my mouth sharpened like blades.
"Those sounds are inside your head," he said with a smile. His scar deepened. "No one else hears those—sounds—but you."
I paused for a moment. That wasn't possible, was it? Right then, I decided there were things I wanted to learn from this man. But how could I convince him?
"I found a letter," I said, beginning to study his face intently. "A few lines written by a woman."
I gave him my full attention because I wanted to see the shift in his facial features.
"What can I do?" he said, looking only at his shoes. He showed no hesitation or sign of interest.
"This letter was like a rebellion. Like an emotional release..."
He began scratching his arm and said, "I don't know what you're talking about," but his eyes... it was as if they wanted to say something else. His hand dipped into the ashes on the ground. A tiny, minuscule splinter appeared there. I leaned toward it, bending my knees to look at the sharp tip of the splinter glistening under the light.
"The Hunter took it," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on him. "From me..."
At the mention of the word 'Hunter,' I watched his shoulders tremble slightly. Which pawn's face was passing before his eyes?
"I am... but a wretched man—"
Interrupting him, I said, "You are more than that... otherwise they wouldn't keep you here."
"What makes you say that?" His displeased tone was intertwined with the smell of dampness and rust.
"Because I don't want to play this horrible..." I stopped, struggling to breathe. "This horrible game."
"No one wants to play," he said coldly.
"I'm not sure about that."
"Why?" I felt his scar tighten.
"Because they don't seem bothered by it!" I shouted.
"You're the only one who sees it that way," he said. My soul was so worn out that I wanted to believe everything was a dream, a hallucination.
"You want to sideline me this way, but I will learn everything." There was no resolve in my voice, only the strength of an exhausted person.
"There was a woman who entered the tunnel..." He said this the moment I turned my back.
His tone sent a shiver down my spine. With the trembling in my fingertips, the intensity of the noises above was increasing. My whole body throbbed. I began to suffocate in that cramped space. I felt like an insect—constantly scurrying away just as someone was about to step on me. As if everything could fall apart at any second. I took another step, then, my strength failing, I turned back.
"Wh-what kind of woman?" My voice shook uncontrollably.
His breath spilled from the tiny gap between his lips. "She was locked in the tunnel before, just like you..."
"Just like me?" I asked, as if wanting to hear the answer from myself.
The man's face returned to normal. Although he looked tense, he covered it up in a brief moment. "Yes."
"Wh-who locked her in?"
"The former group leader."
I laughed out of anger. "You mean the one who just died?"
"Him," he said, opening the button on his collar as if seeking air.
"He looked young," I said.
"But he was strong," he replied. "He trained them."
"Who?"
"The patients in the Mechanism."
"Wait a minute," I said. "Isn't everyone in the Mechanism already a patient?"
"True," he said slowly. "In the language you understand, they are all patients, but he... here..." He paused, the emphasis he placed on the word already engraved in my ears. "He discovered hunting in its finest form and listened to his primitive instincts."
I was bothered by him speaking like an academic text. "What is going on here?"
"As much is happening as you can understand," he said, spreading his hands to either side.
"The truth is one," I countered. "And I will find that single truth."
He looked away. The noise continued. But after a while, I had stopped questioning what it was. Was this a mistake or a relief? I didn't know. I just wanted to escape. "That woman, the one you said was locked in the tunnel... Do you know her name?"
"You wouldn't know her," he said dismissively.
"Then why was she locked in?"
He fixed his eyes on the drain where the water was flowing. "She tried to get her son out of the Mechanism."
I forced my lips into a smile, but it hurt. "Then... they locked her up just for that?"
"She had found a way out of here."
What about the man standing before me now? Did he know something about the way out? No, he didn't look like someone who was ignorant. Could intuition mislead a person?
"What kind of way?"
"No one knows."
I had expected him to say that.
"Her son... was she able to save him?"
"He became prey."
My tongue and teeth felt locked. "What happened, then?"
He spoke without wordplay: "He died."
My stomach began to cramp violently. This woman... Could she be? Was she the woman I saw in that prison room before entering the Mechanism? But how could that be? I remembered her words in that dark room. She had said the Mechanism ate her son like a carnivorous animal. I had thought she was insane, but now? If the woman was in prison, who had left the letter in the Mechanism? Who was here that knew her?
I had to solve this.
An unexpected power surged within me. I was going to go up. If necessary, I would obey Sis. Because I wanted to earn my human dignity not temporarily, but permanently. For me, the real resistance was starting now.